


Give/Take, Push/Pull

by 1lostone



Series: Lost's Rickyl Bingo Prompt Fills! [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Bottom Daryl, But really who can blame him., Daryl is kind of a smartass, Exploration of Power Dynamics, I filled my bingo card! YAY ME, Insecurity, M/M, Not-so-surprised feelings, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Really you might miss it if you blink., Rick has a thing for Daryl's ass, Rimming, Spanking, Surprise feelings, Very brief praise kink, i blame jlm for everything, references to past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6478699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wish I could put something truly moving and exceptional here, so when you read it you will reexamine your own lives through the character's, and understand that while our struggles may be different, we are all part of the same grand picture. </p><p> </p><p>.... but really it's just a story about two guys fucking. A lot. With kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give/Take, Push/Pull

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jlm121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlm121/gifts).



> Written for my bb Jlm, for a VERY LATE birthday present.

  


Daryl knew he’d fucked up.

The thing of it was, he’d been waiting for Rick to react. He’d known that it was coming, like the pressure right before a storm. Only _this_ storm was five feet, ten inches of pure, pissed-off ex-sheriff.

Daryl shifted from one foot to the other, surprised at himself. He wasn’t... _afraid_ of Rick. Nothin’ like that. Instead, Rick gave off a weird energy that Daryl couldn’t quite put his finger on. Still, it reminded him of poking a bear with a very sharp, honey-covered stick, and waiting to see if it was going to be mauled or eat the honey and _then_ be mauled.

“You will tell me immediately if any of this ain’t gonna work for you.”

Rick’s low voice caused Daryl’s eyes to widen slightly. The low thrum of command didn’t make Daryl react with a swing to Rick’s gut, nor did it make him want to run away. He felt rooted to the spot, still waiting to see what was gonna happen next. Some small part of his mind recognized the look in Rick’s eyes, but he couldn’t quite parse why that look was directed at _him._

Daryl cocked his head jerking his head once in agreement. He wasn’t stupid. He knew why he was in this house, with Rick of all the goddamn people. He’d known it five days ago, as soon as he came back to Alexandria bleeding. He’d known it when he’d collapsed outside of the gates from dehydration or exhaustion or just pure fucking _relief_ of making it back home, Sasha’s shout of alarm the last thing he heard before passing out.

He’d known it when he’d woken up in Denise’s infirmary with Rick’s pale, worried face looking down at him.

Oh yeah. He’d known that this was coming. Something like it, anyway. Some kind of... discussion on what Daryl had done. On why he’d left the way he did.

Rick gave a tiny nod of satisfaction, presumably because Daryl hadn’t flipped him the bird and stalked out of the house, and arranged the dining-room bench so that it was in front of the kitchen island. When he sat down, it gave Rick a nice little backrest. Rick pressed his boot heels down to the floor and spread his legs just enough that when he made direct eye contact all of the moisture in Daryl’s throat dried up.

“Take off your boots, your belt, and your weapons, and come here.”

Daryl licked his lips, watching Rick watch him. He knew that Rick was giving him another chance to call this, whatever it was, off. That feeling of curiosity hadn’t left. It was almost surreal, but Daryl was nothin’ if not curious, so he figured he’d go with it and see if he could figure out what Rick was doing.  

He bent down and unlaced his boots, sliding them and his thick socks off. His khakis were a little too loose without a belt- none of them had quite recovered the weight they’d lost on the way here- and the belt came out of the loops with a soft _susurrus_ of sound. Daryl hesitated about taking off the weapons. He usually kept two knives and a backup on him, especially since he’d lost his crossbow. Taking the weapons off, even in Alexandria was a measure of trust that made Daryl nervous.

But if he couldn’t trust Rick, then there was no goddamn point to any of it.

Daryl looked up at Rick through his bangs, just in time to catch the small, satisfied smirk fade from Rick’s face.

Daryl didn’t quite know what to do with his arms.

“Now the vest.”

Daryl felt himself blush as he took off the vest that had become sort of a uniform to him. His shirt was just an old work shirt that he’d taken the sleeves off of, but he unbuttoned it, leaving a strip of naked chest for Rick to see. And boy was Rick seeing. Rick _could_ be looking at the small, neatly-stitched wound that Denise had had to lance and clean, then restitch when the fishing line Daryl had tried to use outside of the walls hadn’t worked. He _could_ be checking to see if Daryl was okay, or if any of the bruises or contusions that had marred his chest and throat were still there.

Rick wasn’t.

Daryl wasn’t a stranger to having guys check him out. Living with Merle meant that- in order for the two of them to actually live together with no one dying- Merle didn’t ask and Daryl sure as shit didn’t tell. His sex life hadn’t exactly been the thing of legend.  Hell, no wonder he didn’t recognize that look on Rick’s face. It had been so long since he had actually _had_  sex Daryl had forgotten how it felt to really want someone with such single-minded intensity.  Having Rick check him out? _That_ was so far out of the norm it was like some dream.

Rick’s gaze started from Daryl’s toes, up to the loose waistband of his khakis, over his stomach, chest, and neck. It darted over to the still-healing wound on his naked shoulder, and lingered over the yellowing bruises on Daryl’s neck.

“You said that you didn’t have a place here, then left.” Rick’s voice was low, inflectionless, simply stating fact.

Daryl flinched. He _had_ said that, then stormed off in what had amounted to a huff when Rick had just laughed at him for being ridiculous.  He’d felt too stupid to come back after doing an impression of Carl having a temper tantrum, so Daryl had the bright idea to break protocol and go on a run by himself.

After what had happened the last time he’d ended up by himself, Daryl would have thought that he’d learned his lesson.

“How many were there?”

“Four.”

Rick nodded, as though he’d expected that number. “And how many are still with us?”

Daryl snorted and crossed his arms.

Rick’s eyes narrowed. “Come here now. Come on.”  

Daryl swallowed so hard that his throat clicked. His gaze darted to Rick’s face, to the heated stare, and back to where Rick pointed- on the floor in front of his spread legs.   

 _Well then_ . _Here goes nothin’, I guess._

Daryl, instead of walking over to Rick as Rick probably expected, dropped to his knees with an ignored wince at the popping of cartilage.  He didn’t miss the way Rick froze for a second, like he had never quite imagined that happening. Nor did Daryl miss the way Rick’s breath completely stopped in his chest when Daryl started to slowly knee-walk the few feet towards him.

“Yeah?”  Daryl asked.

“Yeah.” Rick agreed.

Rick’s fingertips brushed lightly over the bruises on Daryl’s neck.   He bent down so that his lips hovered over Daryl’s for a heartbeat, two, before brushing against them so gently that if Daryl hadn’t been frozen into place with anticipation, he would have missed it. Daryl kissed him back the same way, an echo of expectation and arousal that made heat clench low in his gut.

This was Rick _Grimes._ The same man who had gotten him out of Woodbury. Who hadn’t let him crack while locked in that stinking traincar in Terminus. Who had kept him from just givin’ up... so many times as they made their sad, bedraggled way to Alexandria.

Daryl hadn’t ever tried anything like this before. Usually, when he fucked someone, negotiated who was going inside of whom, everyone had a good time, then they went their separate ways. There was certainly none of this emotional shit tied to it.

Rick leaned back a little, but kept his lips on Daryl’s. Daryl, without thinking pushed up with his knees and thighs, chasing the small, absurdly gentle touch. Rick’s tongue flirted with the seam of Daryl’s lips, and with a sound pulled from the very depths of him, Daryl gave in to whatever Rick wanted. Like any other situation between the two of them, Daryl knew that he would follow where Rick led.

Literally, as it turned out.

Before Daryl could quite piece together how it happened, he was straddling Rick’s legs, kissing the other man so intensely that he wasn’t sure if he was breathing. They would kiss, break for breath while one or the other ran hands over shoulders, or arms, or kiss a stubbled jaw, then go back to each other’s lips like neither had any intention of stopping.

Eventually though, Daryl reminded himself that blue wasn’t his best color and broke off the kiss. His dick was hard in his khakis, trapped against his leg. He could feel the bulge of Rick’s cock against his thigh, and he knew if he just wiggled slightly, they’d be pressing up against one another. The material of his shirt rubbed against his back just enough that it sent his nerves tingling.

Rick must have hand the same idea, because with a groan, he discovered Daryl wasn’t wearing any underwear by sliding the palms of his hands up under the back of his shirt and under Daryl’s lose waistband, over and onto the cheeks of Daryl’s ass.

Daryl blushed when Rick spread him apart a little, but his cock twitched hopefully, completely on board with this new development.  

“I wanted to kick your ass.”

Daryl blinked, and sat back on Rick’s lap.  As sweet nothings go, that wasn’t quite what he was expecting. Rick flexed his fingers, keeping Daryl seated where he was.

“You just _left_ , man. Not that you... I mean I guess there’s nothing tying you here,” Rick tightened his grip,  subconsciously refuting his words.

Daryl frowned, his body still buzzing from their kisses.  Rick wasn’t looking at him, instead staring at Daryl’s chest.  A thought had flitted around his brain, not quite coalescing into an idea- probably born of him sliding down to his knees, of looking up at Rick from a position of submission.

Well, _sort_ of submission. Daryl was the one allowing it to happen, so he wasn’t quite sure if he was submitting or bowing to fate. Either way, it had him here on Rick’s lap, so he was going to go with it.

“You could, you know,” Daryl blurted, running his hands over Rick’s arms and shoulders. Rick was still fully dressed, and Daryl was ... _not_ , and he found that the differences were different enough that it was causing a low-grade awareness to thrum through him. Something like arousal, something like nervousness, and something like excitement all mixed together into a wicked sort of cocktail. Daryl wasn’t completely naked, but he _felt_ naked without his weapons and vest.

Rick tilted back his head. His lips were swollen and still a little wet, and Daryl’s cock gave another hopeful twitch.  

“I could, what. Kick your ass?”

Daryl started to pull away, but Rick’s grabby hands didn’t quite listen. They tightened on him, and Rick started to frown.

“Lemme go a sec.”

Rick let go instantly, setting back against the kitchen island so that no part of his body was touching Daryl’s.  Daryl couldn’t quite handle the encroaching panic in Rick’s gaze so he leaned forward to kiss his lips quickly, filthily entwining their tongues and licking into Rick’s mouth before getting up off Rick’s lap.

He undid the button on his khakis. The zipper was very loud in the almost silent house, but the low, punched-out sound Rick couldn’t quite hide when Daryl loosened his flies ramped up his confidence again, giving Daryl the push he needed to stand there with his hands on his hips, khakis undone but hanging for dear life on his hips, and his shirt open but barely on, leaving his chest bare. Daryl licked his lips and eyed the bench. If he was careful enough, it should work.

Before it got too awkward (he hoped) and Rick started to wonder what the fuck he was doing, Daryl stretched out, face down across the bench, situating himself so that his ass was on Rick’s lap. It caused his cock to drag against Rick’s thigh and leg, and Daryl caught his breath at the blinding white fissure of _yeah_ that sang through his body.

The tiny spurt of confidence left him. This was probably a bit more kinky than Daryl had ever even thought of doing- aside from that one time with the butt plug that Daryl was absolutely _never thinking of again_ , but it was... interesting to push Rick this way- to see what he was willing to do. To test his own boundaries. Daryl knew he could trust Rick with his life, but with this? This he didn’t know about. Not for sure.

“I.” Rick stopped and cleared his throat. A beat of silence ticked by, then another.

The silence stretched, and Daryl shivered at the feeling of mortification that slid over him, ready to scramble off Rick’s lap and probably run back into the woods.  A tiny, slightly hysterical part of him checked off the ‘humiliation kink- definite nogo’, because this? This was _terrible_. A mistake, a--

“Relax, Daryl. You got all tense.” Rick’s hands came down gently on Daryl, one resting at the small of his back over his shirt, and the other just under his ass, high up on his thigh. The fingers rubbed him, almost petting, as though trying to calm a nervous horse.  “Just surprised me is all.”

Rick’s fingers pushed up the tail of Daryl’s shirt, leaving the dip of his waist and the dimples above his ass bare. Rick traced them with one finger, and just like _that_ , Daryl’s body was back online again, ready to lead where Rick followed.  He felt himself relaxing as Rick had requested. Rick’s fingers felt impossibly hot, and the idea of what was about to happen- what _could_  happen made Daryl shiver again, this time with anticipation.

Rick arranged Daryl’s khakis so that they left his ass bare, the waistband under the curved part of his butt, and leaving him naked, pressed up against Rick.

“I’ve never done this,” Rick admitted, sounding almost sheepish.

Daryl wiggled a little, more to see what Rick would do than because he really wanted to leave Rick’s lap. He had to push down the purely possessive feeling of _good_ at Rick’s words; not quite comfortable with how it made him feel, but he liked the fact that Rick was doing this with him, and _just_ him. Liked it maybe a little bit too much.

“Me either.” Daryl tried to shrug, then caught himself as the motion nearly pitched him off the narrow bench.  He stretched out his arms hanging onto the front and grinned at sucked-in, shocked breath Rick took.  He knew that his body might be a tad skinny (not that Rick was complaining) but his arms and shoulders were thick with muscle and sinew from his crossbow. Rick’s hand ghosted over the cheeks of his butt, and Daryl’s body jerked.

The sound of Rick swallowing was very loud in the quiet room. When he spoke though, none of the trepidation or nervousness was evident in the tone of his voice. “For this, if you tell me to stop, I stop. If we do this kind of thing again, you can pick a word that ain’t something you’d normally say.”

Part of Daryl’s mind was shrieking at him, ‘Again? We can do this _again?’_ While the rest of his brain whirled through the fact that Rick apparently knew enough about this sort of thing to know there were code words (were they called code words? Daryl’d have to find a way to read up on this shit.) and all.

“You were gone for... twenty three days, including recovery time.” Rick’s hands drifted over Daryl’s ass again, kneading a little before drifting down to tease the fine hairs over the back of Daryl’s thighs. “I think that will be... twenty-three swats. I want you to count for me, okay? Loudly enough that I can hear you.” Rick paused. “Don’t say anything else. Just... the number.”

Oh _fuck._

The slightly-less hysterical voice in Daryl’s head made a very special note of ‘direct orders- _yes!’_ And underlined it. Twice.

“Okay?”

Daryl, mindful of Rick’s directions, only nodded. Rick didn’t give him any time to wonder, or worry. The _crack!_ Of the palm of Rick’s hand against the skin of Daryl’s ass didn’t sting as much as it shocked him with how loud it was. Daryl jumped and a little belatedly stuttered a strangled “O-one.” It didn’t hurt as much as it surprised him.

Rick made a satisfied sound, and Daryl felt the air move as he swung his hand down again.  Rick must have been concentrating, because it felt like he hit him in the same goddamn place. Just as hard, not pulling the force of his swing.

“Two.”

The third and the fourth started to sting a little.  The fifth made Daryl wiggle a little, slightly uncomfortable. The sixth just fucking hurt.

“ _Shit_. Six!”

Rick stopped, making a _tsk_ sound. His fingers drifted over the spot on Daryl’s ass, pressing into the hot skin. “I didn’t say you could swear.”

Daryl’s eyes popped open. He turned back to look at Rick, who was staring at him with eyes dark with want.  Rick licked his lips and raised his eyebrows, and Daryl knew that he was once again being asked if he was on board with whatever it was that they were doing.

He was. He so, so was.

Rick pressed into the spot on his ass, as though to get Daryl’s attention, and it hurt a little.

“Hnnm,” Rick grunted in that thinking, ‘yeah okay’ way he had. “You clearly said, ‘shit’ and that’s not what I asked for, Daryl. Now. Eyes, front, and you mind me, now.” He pulled the cheeks of Daryl’s ass apart again, and the pull caused Daryl to swallow, hard. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it made Daryl very aware of his position.

“Shame you can’t see. Got a bright red handprint right on that asscheek.” Rick shifted a little to bend over, and blew cool air across the hot skin.

Daryl shivered, and bit back a groan of surprise. His cock, which had been semi-hard while they started and stopped, started to thicken with every rub of Rick’s hand. The idea that Rick’s mouth was so close to---

“Oh you can make _sounds_. Just no words, aside from counting.” Rick paused. “And my name.” Daryl could hear the smirk in his voice. Something wet and slick traced the handprint on his ass, and Daryl didn’t even try to hold back his shocked, breathy exhale. He turned back around and stared hard at the bench, clenching his fingers.

“Ready?”

Daryl nodded, trying not to tense up. This time, Rick spanked him on the other cheek. Just as hard, exactly in the same spot.  Daryl made it to ten before he was wiggling in place, his cock having realized that while he spanking was painful, it was also extremely _good_.  At fifteen, Daryl couldn’t keep the moan of Rick’s name back behind his teeth.

At seventeen, Daryl was spreading his legs, cursing inwardly at the restriction of his khakis. He wanted his legs fucking _open,_ and he wasn’t able to move that way. Rick was holding him in place with one steadying hand on the center of his back, between Daryl’s shoulders, with his dominant hand switching between cheeks with painful, stinging, _arousing_ smacks. At nineteen, Rick moved slightly that his cock pressed against Daryl’s hip, and the feel of its thickness caused Daryl to freeze for just a second. He blurted out before he could help himself- “Wait!”

While not ‘stop’, Rick paused, doing what Daryl had asked.  Daryl pressed against the bulge of Rick’s cock again, harder and felt Rick’s automatic push back. Daryl was feeling a little dizzy from the spanking, but knew that if what he was feeling under Rick’s jeans was anything close to what Rick was going to use _in_ him, Daryl was probably gonna come, here on Rick’s lap. It didn’t even have to be Rick’s cock. There were so many different toys they could use that Daryl acknowledged that perhaps he wasn’t dizzy from just the spanking. The possibilities were endless.

He needed to catch his breath, just for a second.

“Can we- can we move this to the bed?”

Rick swallowed again. “Is it your shoulder?”

 _His shoulder? What the fuck did_ that _have to do with anyth-- oh._  

“No- I’m fine. I just... can we?”

“Yeah.” Rick’s voice was so deep it was barely a whisper of sound. Daryl was horribly afraid that his cock was leaking all over Rick’s jeans-clad leg, but couldn’t quite find it in himself to care.

It took Daryl a second to gather himself enough get up. He started walking back to the bedroom, ass stinging, moving through the dark house on autopilot, stripping off the rest of his clothes on his way. Daryl could hear that Rick stood almost immediately, the awkward _thumpdrag_ of someone hopping on one foot to kick off his boots, and the quick steps of bare feet following him down the small hallway into the bedroom.  Daryl  took a second to orientate himself with the mirrors in the room, ignored the lightswitch and stretched out onto the cool sheets of the bed, face down. He was sweaty and his butt throbbed. Concentrating on each separate pulse gave Daryl something to focus on.

The bedside lamp clicked on and bed squeaked as Rick climbed up on it.  Daryl pillowed his face in his arms, spreading his legs enough that he was more comfortable, although his dick was still pressed awkwardly under him. He could ignore it for awhile in order to enjoy Rick’s reaction to how he knew he looked, spread out and waiting for Rick to continue whatever it was that he wanted to continue.

Rick didn’t disappoint. Those strong hands of his, the ones that could hold a gun with deadly intent and cuddle his daughter with so much love that it hurt to look at him, moved slowly up Daryl’s legs. Daryl didn’t have a lot of body hair, but he enjoyed the way what he had pulled slightly as Rick touched him, pausing to kiss the back of a knee, or the side of Daryl’s thigh.

The bed shook again as Rick swung his legs over Daryl, kneeling over his calves.  

“Tilt up again so I can see,  then start again, Daryl.”

Daryl grinned again, ready to go once more. He wouldn’t admit to it under torture, but he found himself _presenting_ just a little, legs spread and ass tilted up in the air.  Rick moved, and the sound caused Daryl to moan, his cock jerking under him.

_Thwack!_

“One.”

_Thwack!_

“Two!”

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_

Rick began switching cheeks now, and the burning pain had changed into something that Daryl didn’t quite know how to process. He felt high, but not quite. Drunk, but not quite that either; so fucking turned on that he wanted this to both hurry up and end and never end at the same time.

Daryl only had the presence of mind to moan and gasp, forcing the sounds into words that Rick wanted. “Fourteen, Fuh-Fifteen,” Fuck! “ _Rick_!”

From this position, Rick could swing his arm with more leverage, and Daryl had the shocking thought of- _if this felt so good with Rick’s hand, then how would it feel with some of the other toys in the bins across the room?-_ and the thought was so shocking that he bucked, arching his back with a moan that sounded so needy that he actually shocked himself. The cool air from the room hit his back when the sweaty shirt rode up.

Rick gasped.

The shocked, hurt sound was so incongruous with the low buzz of anticipation that Daryl’s heart felt like it was caught in his throat. The feeling in the room had been... well, granted Daryl was so far out of practice it was ridiculous, but he’d _thought_ it was sexually charged.  It had felt that way to him. Now though, now it was all wrong.  It was heavy and cold, like the press of a gun against a temple. Feeling like the blood in his veins had turned to lead, Daryl turned.

Rick’s weight was up on his knees, and he was staring, horrified at Daryl’s back.

_Oh._

“I just h-hit. Why did you let-” Rick started to scramble backwards, his face grey in the faint glow of the lamp.  

  
Daryl (who even with his dick out to god and everybody and his ass in the air had nothing wrong with his reflexes) reached out with his hand, closing his fingers around Rick’s forearm. He yanked, stilling Rick’s panicked, appalled retreat off of the end of the bed.

“ _No_.”

Rick swallowed hard, putting his hand behind his back like a kid trying to hide the evidence. The hand that Daryl held was not able to move, but he tried. Daryl held tight, not ready to let Rick go. His blue eyes had widened, and something very much like the sheen of tears shimmered in their depths.

Keeping ahold of Rick’s arm, Daryl maneuvered so that he was kneeling in front of him. “ _This_ ,” he said, gesturing from Rick to his own chest and back, “has nothin’ to do with _that_ .” Daryl jerked his thumb back over his shoulder, indicating his back. “And what you did. What _we_ did, was because I wanted to. Because I trust you, man.” Daryl stared hard at him, waiting for Rick to process what he’d said. He could be patient.  It took a few minutes before RIck nodded, licking his lips.

Daryl released his panicked grip on Rick’s forearm and slid his hand over Rick’s wrist to tangle their fingers together. Rick’s hand was hot from spanking him and Daryl had to swallow hard, biting his lip when he realized that now that they’d stopped, his own ass was throbbing again, even more from moving into the bedroom.  Rick ducked his head to catch Daryl’s gaze, and he stared at him for a long time. Whatever he saw there seemed to answer whatever questions he had.

“Turn over,” Rick grit out, and Daryl complied without thought. He felt Rick move back on the bed, reaching for something. _Oh_. One of the pillows he’d kicked off earlier when he’d flipped over to grab Rick before he bolted.

Daryl was perfectly content to let Rick arrange him into the shape he wanted him in, which was on his hands and knees, a pillow under his pelvis and one for him to rest his chin on, without burying his face in a pillow and smothering himself.  

“Hang tight.”

Rick kissed his tailbone then left. Daryl heard a _click_ , and the room got slightly brighter.  

“Look to your left.”

Daryl did, and his eyes widened. The mirrors in the room were arranged so that you could see both yourself and your partner from every position you might use the bed for. There were reflections bouncing back upon reflections, illuminated by the small lamp next to Daryl and the slightly larger lamp across the room that Rick had turned on.  

  
Daryl blinked, staring at Rick behind him. Rick’s smile was barely there, but it was genuine enough that Daryl finally started to relax.  Rick leaned forward and pushed Daryl’s legs apart, stroking his hands up and over his sac. It was the first time, even with all that had gone, that Rick had deliberately touched Daryl.  He groaned when Rick reached under his body for his cock, tilting it and gently pulling back so it wasn’t under him, but arranged more comfortably.

Of course, it also meant that Daryl couldn’t touch himself if Rick didn’t let him.

From the reflection in the mirrors, Daryl could see two almost perfect handprints on his ass. It almost looked like Rick had goosed him. A few of them had gone off kilter, so it wasn’t a perfect outline, but as soon as Daryl saw the bright red, shiny-looking skin, it was like he could feel it again. His ass throbbed and he shifted on his hands and knees, watching Rick watch him.

He watched as Rick smoothed his hand over Daryl’s spine, ignoring the scars that had troubled him so much. Daryl was... grateful. He would probably talk about it if Rick asked him, but now wasn’t the time. Daryl knew that Rick wanted him. Rick had pretty fucking clear empirical proof that Daryl sure as shit wanted _him_ , and they could always talk... later.

“I think I’m a little obsessed with your ass.”

Daryl had noticed, but thought it impolite to point out. He had no trouble wiggling a little. In his head, it looked enticing. In the mirror it looked like a weird sort of spasm.

Daryl immediately turned his head so that his chin was off the pillow again. He’d look later.  Maybe. Now though, he just wanted to _feel_. He wanted Rick to take him back to where they’d been before Daryl had drawn attention to his back. Rick moved a little closer, and Daryl felt Rick’s lips ghosting over the bottom part of his spine. Rick kissed at his tailbone, then brushed his lips over the handprint on Daryl’s left asscheek. There was a second of hot, humid air, then the sharp pain of Rick’s teeth as he bit the skin.

Daryl’s whole fucking nervous system lit up like the 4th of July. He didn’t even _recognize_ the sound he made.  Rick didn’t bite him hard enough to mark the skin, but Daryl could for damn sure _feel_ it.

“You like that?”

Daryl nodded, his hands fisting in the sheets.

“Answer me.” Rick’s voice had the low thrum of command that had people answering to him before they quite thought about it, and Daryl was no different.

“Yes!”

“Hmmm.” Rick licked at the mark, then sucked at it, slowly at first, then harder and harder until Daryl was fucking into the pillow, trying to get some sort of friction on his cock.  It wasn’t pain. Or if it was, his brain had rewired itself so it was absolute _pleasure._

Daryl moaned, trying to keep still. Rick pinched his other mark and Daryl cried out, choking on his own spit. Rick pressed his chin against the already overly-sensitized marks, rubbing the stubble gently against him.  

“Hey. Take a breath a sec.”

Daryl wanted to say something profound, something memorable but was pretty sure he just gasped like a fish, desperate to see what Rick would do to him next.  When they were in the kitchen, Daryl had kind of thought that if Rick was gonna fuck him, he’d do it against the counter. Something hard and quick and filthy.

Not this. This was exploratory. Rick did something, testing to see Daryl’s reaction, then continued, either ramping up the sensation or moving onto something else.

“I want you to balance yourself on your shoulders. Your wound okay for that?”

Daryl nodded. The line of Denise’s neat, mostly healed stitches were on the fleshy part, not the top of his shoulder, so Daryl hardly noticed it. It had healed well and there was no infection. To be honest, Rick seemed to notice it more than Daryl did.

Rather than answer, Daryl cautiously tried to get his body to move, not entirely sure it would obey his commands anymore. He seemed so in tune with what Rick wanted, that pleasing Rick made him feel... well. Something.

He’d figure _that_ out later.

It took a bit of effort, but Daryl managed. He had to nudge the pillow under his neck away with his chin, and turn his head a little sharply so that he could breathe, but it left his arms and hands free.

“Now reach back and hold yourself open for me.”

Daryl’s eyes popped open in shock.  He was pretty sure the sound he just made involved all the air in his lungs exiting on one, _agonizingly_ aroused wheeze. He gasped in oxygen and hastened to do what Rick had told him, balancing on his shoulders. It took a little to manage, but Daryl gripped his own ass and spread himself open.  He caught a glimpse of what he looked like in the mirror and was both instantly embarrassed and incredibly turned on by the sight.

Rick’s grin was filthy. “Oh that’s nice. Very, _very_ good, Daryl.”

If Daryl had any blood left in his brain, he probably would have examined with much greater detail how Rick telling him he was good made him feel. As it was, he could just whisper Rick’s name. He felt connected to Rick in a way they’d never shared, lost in the growly timbre of Rick’s voice and the feel of him behind him, ready to make Daryl feel good.

Rick seemed to understand.

With Daryl making room for him, Rick moved in. Daryl watched in the mirror until Rick’s eyelids drifted shut, the flush on his cheeks bright in the light of the lamps before Rick leaned all the way in.

The first lick surprised him. Daryl jumped in place, then immediately tried to spread his legs more.  Rick’s agile tongue didn’t fuck around, licking into him with quick, flicking sweeps of the tip of his tongue.  Daryl could feel Rick _inside_ of him.

“Fuck. _Fuck_ , Rii-iick.” Daryl knew he was whining a little but didn’t care. He wasn’t entirely sure how he could feel this good without Rick’s dick inside of him, but the _whatifwhatifwhatif_ was driving him fucking _crazy_.

Rick fucked him with his tongue, stopping only to lick at his balls, or stroke Daryl’s cock with his now-free hand. Rick only rubbed teasingly at the head, not enough to make him come and Daryl would have complained if everything else didn’t feel so goddamn good.

“Ahhh, Aw, fuck. _Fuck_ , Rick.”

Daryl heard the click of lube, and felt Rick’s finger slide in beside his tongue. Rick pulled away to breathe, and fucked him slowly with his finger, then not so slowly as his ass accepted the digit. Two fingers were a stretch, and Daryl couldn’t help the way he flinched.

It really had been awhile.  

Rick hummed under his breath, bending a little, then lipped at the head of Daryl’s cock. He was careful not to suck, or to give Daryl too much stimulation, but it definitely distracted him from the two fingers in his ass. By the time he realized what Rick had done, the two fingers were moving with slick, wet sounds. Daryl didn’t know if it was Rick’s salvia or the lube he was using, but he’d just started to tentatively rock back onto Rick’s fingers, when Rick altered the angle of his hand.

“Oh! Oh _fuck_!” He could feel Rick’s mouth licking at him again, and Daryl held his asscheeks open so wide that he could feel his skin protesting the bite of his own fingers. Shivers marched up his spine, making him feel filthy and so turned on he could barely breathe. Rick’s tongue slid between the two fingers, before drawing slowly out. Rick rested his forehead against Daryl’s thigh, and dimly Daryl heard the sound of the lube squirting again.

This time when Rick slid two fingers into his ass, he curved them to find Daryl’s prostate immediately. Daryl lurched forward, then pressed back into the knowing touch. Each time that Rick would tap against the little bundle of nerves, Daryl felt his cock drool precome all over his thigh, almost down to his knee.  Rick seemed to always know when it was just this side of too much, pulling away and letting Daryl catch his breath, before starting the whole thing over again.

He wanted to come. Daryl _needed_ to come, or he was going to have a fucking heart attack, right here.  Rick waited a few seconds, then started again with three fingers this time, stretching Daryl’s twitching, greedy hole. Daryl couldn’t have said if it was too much, or too little. Nothing hurt, but he could feel every, single stroke of Rick’s thick fingers against his his insides, making room.

Finally though, Rick pulled away. Daryl actually tried to push his ass into Rick’s face, but a solid smack on the still-sensitive handprint made Daryl kind of collapse in place onto the bed.

He turned on his side and sucked in air, trying to get himself under control.  Rick stared at him like Daryl was all the answers to all the questions in the universe, face still sloppy and wet from his filthy kisses, two bright red flags of color in his cheeks.

WIthout Daryl needing to say anything, Rick flopped down beside him on the bed, undoing his jeans and kicking them frantically off. They thudded against the mirror across the room. Rick sat up just enough to peel off his t-shirt and flung it towards the bathroom.  Rick reached for his underwear, and Daryl finally got his shit together, turning and flopping awkwardly over onto Rick.

It wasn’t the smooth move that he was going for, but he really, really wanted to strip Rick the rest of the way.

He just needed all his limbs to work properly.

Rick snorted a laugh, and Daryl glared down at him, his hand drifting down to touch the outline of Rick’s cock through his underwear.

It was Rick’s turn for his eyes to flutter closed. Daryl didn’t know how Rick had kept from touching himself this whole time, but there was a viscous wet spot of precome that turned the white material sheer around the head of Rick’s cock.

Daryl wanted to savor. He wanted to take his time, and enjoy slowly taking Rick apart, like he’d done to him.

Fuck _that_.

Daryl pulled the waistband of Rick’s underwear out and off as Rick lifted his hips. Rick’s cock fell against his stomach, thick and red and slick with precome.  Daryl wrapped his fingers around the base, eyes darting up at the choked-off sound that came from Rick’s throat.

“You gotta let me.”  Daryl’s voice sounded strained and broken.

Rick barked a laugh. “ _Let_ you? God, Daryl. Get your fucking mouth _on_ me.”

Daryl did.

He didn’t fuck around. Didn’t tease. It was a rush to hear Rick moan his name while he licked the precome off the head of Rick’s cock, The feel small _pulldrag_ of Rick’s fingers pushing back his hair a little too quickly made Daryl shiver. The fact that Rick obviously couldn’t _wait_ to see Daryl’s mouth close around him, so much that he cupped Daryl’s cheeks with his hands, holding his head to draw out the anticipation until Daryl opened his mouth spoke of many, many fantasies being realized at once.

Rick’s cock wasn’t super long, but it was thick enough that Daryl had to open his mouth as far as he could so that his teeth wouldn’t scrape against the flushed skin. The shaft  jerked on Daryl’s tongue, but Rick carefully didn’t pull or do anything rough. Maybe one day, Rick would yank Daryl’s mouth down and feed him his cock until he couldn’t breathe unless Rick wanted him to, but they were both too far gone for that today.

Daryl pulled off, his mouth buzzing with Rick’s taste. Rick tugged on Daryl’s hair and kissed at his chin and jaw, not quite touching his mouth.  Daryl followed Rick as he sat back against the headboard, reaching back to grasp Rick’s cock with his other hand.  It took him a second to realize why exactly it was that Rick wasn’t kissing him on the mouth, but when he did, Daryl couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“What?” Rick’s cheeks turned bright red again.

“You’re ridiculous.” Daryl leaned forward and kissed him right. Rick made a small, shocked sound but then their kissing was just as passionate as before, and almost without thinking about it, they mirrored their position from earlier on the bench. Daryl straddled Rick’s legs, and Rick drew his feet up so that they were flat on the mattress, giving Daryl a spot against which to rest his back.

Daryl reached over and picked up the lube, putting a generous amount on his hand. He was even nice enough to warm it before fisting it over Rick’s cock, slicking it up. His own asshole still felt wet and open, but Rick was so thick that it was going to stretch. He made a little unconscious ‘mm’ sound, and Rick smiled up at him. How a man with a cock like that managed to smile bashfully, Daryl did not know. It was a little scary when his heart gave an alarming heave at the sight of Rick’s smile though.  Daryl winced inwardly, hoping that he wasn’t making some dumbass face back at Rick.

To get his mind off of feelings, more than anything else, Daryl started to lean forward, but Rick figured out what he wanted before he could finish. Rick held out his hand for some lube, then reached back and fingered him again, swirling his fingertip around the rim of Daryl’s hole.

“Aw, _Christ_.”

“Yeah?”  Rick scraped his fingernails against the sore, reddened handprints on Daryl’s ass, and Daryl shivered. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah.”  

“You go slow. I want to watch it all.”

Daryl’s heart did that same sort of slow flip again, but he nodded. He thought that Rick would be watching in the mirror as he arranged himself over the head of Rick’s cock, watching the red head slowly work itself inside of Daryl’s body. To see it and feel it at the same time, the stretch and burn, the initial - _nope-ain’t gonna work_ \- before his body worked past its resistance, was indescribable. Daryl’s gaze darted from the mirror, to Rick’s face, assuming that he would have been watching the same thing.

Rick barely blinked, eyes on Daryl’s face.  His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and the sweat gleaming on his forehead was the only indication that Daryl’s glacial pace was difficult for him to allow. Rick’s hands moved from Daryl’s ass, to his hips, to his thighs, rubbing and sensitizing the skin.  Daryl froze for a second, caught by the intensity of Rick’s gaze.

Daryl licked his lips and bore down as the head of Rick’s cock fully breached him. After that, the already-stretched hole closed around the shaft of Rick’s cock, and Daryl slowly worked himself down until he was fully seated. He caught his breath and leaned forward slightly, pushed by Rick’s bent knees so that everything inside of him lit up again, and Daryl found his eyes flutter shut for a second as sensations overwhelmed him.

His eyes popped back open when Rick wrapped his hand around Daryl’s cock.  “Move,” he grit out, low.

Daryl did.

Slowly at first, his body still not sure that this was a good thing, then faster once it started to come on board with the idea, then faster still once Daryl started to really ride Rick’s cock. He pressed one hand against Rick’s sternum, noticing a few scars that he’d only heard about in passing, to brace himself, and pressed his other hand against the headboard for leverage.

Rick met him with every stroke- so when Daryl pushed _down_ , Rick thrust _up_ , giving Daryl’s cock a firm stroke or swiping the wet head with his thumb.  

“Daryl...” Rick moaned, practically the first time he’d said Daryl’s name in quite that tone.

And that was it.

Daryl jerked his hand away from the headboard and started to jack his own cock, his fingers tangling with Rick’s. It only took three, then four furious, tight strokes before he was coming, freezing in place as Rick fucked up into his twitching hole, his thick cock sliding inside with as much force as he could. The first shot landed on Rick’s chest, near Daryl’s hand. The second on the sheets next to Rick’s hip, and the third bubbled up over their hands.

Rick’s wet hand closed onto Daryl’s other hip, and Rick grunted when he came, clenching his teeth and arching up into Daryl’s heat.

This time, when Daryl collapsed, Rick barely had the strength or the presence of mind to make sure Daryl didn’t just flop down onto Rick in a boneless sprawl.

For a few moments, Daryl just breathed, slowly taking stock of how good he felt, of each, separate hurt and sore spot on his body.

He might have dozed for a few minutes. Daryl couldn’t say for sure. But, when Rick got out of the bed it startled him enough that he turned his head to follow Rick’s movement, warily.

Rick kissed his shoulder and walked to the bathroom.  Daryl had shifted so he was more or less in the center of the bed, trying to avoid the mess on the sheets. He pillowed his head in his arms again and breathed, waiting for the panicked realization of what he and Rick had just done to jump out at him.

“Let me clean you up a little.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow and shrugged, spreading a little more to give Rick room.

“Jesus _fuck_.” Daryl opened one eye and smirked. The mirror hid nothing. He was an absolute mess, his hole still open and puffy red, come and lube still leaking out of him. He could only see the shocked, turned on expression on Rick’s face as he reached out to touch the mess they’d made, but felt the fingers on him lightly playing with the come, pushing it back in with the tip of one finger.  

Daryl shivered, still incredibly sensitive.

Daryl’s shiver seemed to jar Rick out of the trance he’d been in, and he started to clean Daryl up, wiping the lube and come off of him with a warm, wet cloth.  Rick also rubbed some sort of gel into his ass cheeks, which immediately stopped stinging so much, and the rich scent of eucalyptus rose above the mingled scents of their sweat and sex. Rick switched towels again and wiped the sweat off of Daryl’s body, stroking him with long, gentle strokes, and Daryl reflected that if he was gonna get this sort of treatment with just a little hand spanking, he was _really_ gonna talk to RIck about trying some of the toys that had been kept here.

Finally though, Rick put the stuff away and climbed into bed besides him. Daryl turned on his side, and they stared at each other for a few minutes.

Neither of them spoke, not needing to fill the comfortable silence with a bunch of emotional stuff- which would have been bad, or relationship stuff- which would have been worse.

Just when Daryl was about to drift off, Rick’s whisper jolted him back to wakefulness.

“I know I got nothing to tie you here, but please don’t just go like that again. Don’t _ever_ doubt that you’re wanted, or needed. Right here. With us. With _me_.  Rick paused. “Okay?”

Daryl’s throat was tight again at the latent meaning in those two syllables. When he’d left, it had been an impulse, immediately regretted. When he came back, it had been such an agonizing relief to be here, to see familiar faces that both cared for him and that he cared for. Rick’s little ‘punishment’ had been in a weird way part of that. Rick showing him with actions, as well as words, what was truth.

“Okay.”

And that wasn’t so hard at all.

  
  
  
  
  
  


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(PS if you'd like to play along, [ send me an ask ](http://1lostone.tumblr.com/) or go to the [ RWG's challenge page ](http://rickylwritersgroup.tumblr.com/challenges) on tumblr!)

**Author's Note:**

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> **I HAVE A BINGO! This fic filled Mirrors, Body Painting (painted with the hand marks, get it?) Size Queens (eh. I use the term 'queen' very very loosely here), Prostate Pleasure and Touching.**
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> All the love to **linnethebrave** who was willing to ninja beta for me!
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> Writing this was a bit out of my comfort zone, but I gave it a whirl. Thank you very much for reading!


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